


The Snowfall is So Silent

by BringerOfAshes



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Cultural Difference, F/M, Fluff, Frozen AU, Hobbit Big-Bang, I wrote the thing, IceKing!Thorin, It's happening, M/M, Mahal help me, Sorry not sorry if this causes tears, Such long chapters, Thraldir, bagginshield, frergins, kiliel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:50:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BringerOfAshes/pseuds/BringerOfAshes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would it take for the world to be quiet, Bilbo thought to himself. As quiet as the snow as it fell around the raven-haired dwarf before him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Snowfall is So Silent

**Author's Note:**

> Mahal, this is a long chapter. Now while this story may be heavily inspired off of Disney's Frozen, I'm changed a few things to match the plot. And just so you aren't confused, YES I put the Shire near Erebor.

It was freezing in the Shire. Mounds upon mounds of pure white snow covering the ground. But a young Hobbit named Bilbo Baggins didn’t particularly care. He was actually _excited_ that it had snowed, because this meant that two certain prince’s and their sister would be coming to visit.

“Bilbo! Bilbo, dear, please put on a jacket!” Belladonna Baggins chided while coming out from around the corner, carrying a bright red jacket in her hands to give to her son.

Hazel eyes looked up from underneath thick eyelashes to the older hobbit, giving a shy smile before taking the jacket from her hands slipping it onto his shoulders. “I’m sorry, momma,” Bilbo replied sheepishly.

Belladonna merely smiled down at the young hobbit, gently running a hand through the bronzed honey colored curls.

“May I ask where you’re running off to?”

“Hm?” Bilbo hummed under his breath while buttoning up his jacket.

“It will be growing dark soon, darling, so I don’t think you should be running out this late.”

“Don’t worry, momma, I’m just going to the river near Lake-Town!”

“Why, may I ask?” Belladonna chuckled as she watched her son muttering to himself trying to find his other mitten.

“I am, ah… going to meet some friends.” Bilbo made a small ‘ah-ha’ sound as he found his other yellow mitten, pulling it onto his hand.

“You’ve been going out to see these friends much more often, as of late. What are their names?”

The young hobbit froze for a moment, his cheeks turning pink. “Um…”

Belladonna only chuckled while the younger boy fumbled with the words before reaching over him and grabbing a dark green scarf from the hanger on the wall, gently wrapping it around her son’s neck.

“It’s alright, darling. You don’t need to tell me. I have a feeling you’ll introduce them to your father and I eventually. And you know what your father and I said about talking to strangers on the path,” she said with a wink.

The younger hobbit only blushed as his mother leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead before pulling him into a warm hug, and Bilbo felt absolute love and adoration blossom in his chest from the feeling of his mother’s arms around him. If there was one person he loved in this world, it would have to be his mother.

“Now, you better be going along if you want to make it back before dark,” his mother said, pulling away.

“Oh… I better go, or they’ll wonder where I am. I promise to be back before dark. Goodbye, momma!” Bilbo yelled, bolting out through the front door of Bag-End and past the gate.

All young Bilbo could think about at this point was reaching the lake. They would be there, after almost two weeks of being away. The Lonely Mountain stood proudly off into the distance, casting its shadow over Dale and, further away, Lake-Town.

 

He wondered to himself if they had kept their promises… Would they really, truly do it? He hoped and prayed. He had been waiting since their last meeting, and just thinking about it made Bilbo’s heart flutter about inside his chest.

By the time he reached the river, Bilbo’s feet were already growing a bit cold from the snow crunching underneath his feet. Normally the cold didn’t bother his feet very much because of the soles of his feet, but today they felt particularly cool. He passed a few Big-Folk along the path to Lake-Town, but as soon as he made it to the top of the hill, he remembered what he was told:

“ _Once you have Lake-Town in sight, veer off to the left and keep going.”_

And that is exactly what Bilbo did. Folding his arms across his chest, the little hobbit trudged off into the deeper parts of the snow, heading towards the more secluded area of the river away from Lake-Town. He was closer to Erebor now. So close that he could see the giant stone dwarven statues glaring down at the distant Dale.

The river had turned grey during the winter, but surprisingly enough had not frozen over. Trying to hold down a gleeful giggle Bilbo over to the edge of the river and knelt down, gazing at his reflection down in the dark water. But then he saw another reflection in the water, and his breath caught in his throat for a second before he whirled back around to the person behind him.

“Thorin!”

He kept his promise. He really did come! The dwarf’s short dark raven hair hung down just past his shoulders, and a fair amount of stubble covered his sharp, angular face. His sky-blue eyes seemed lighter with the white background, almost seeming silver. The dwarf merely gave the young hobbit a dazzling smile before walking forward and offering a gloved hand.

“ _Alanjuz ghelekh_ , Master Baggins,” his deep voice greeted.

Bilbo felt warmth rush to his cheeks, and he reached up almost shyly to take hand offered to him. He was immediately pulled to his feet without tripping. Thorin was dressed in a dark blue tunic, with a black leather overcoat lined with thick dark colored furs. Bilbo also noticed that beautiful sapphire gems hung at the ends of Thorin’s braids that cradled the sides of his face. There were more beads in his hair, but they were silver and had different geometrical shapes that the dwarves were famous for.

“I—I was waiting for you,” Bilbo stammered, as Thorin gave another warm smile.

“As I could see. The others are further upstream, but I decided to head further down to see if you hadn’t gotten lost or fallen in, I was starting to believe it until I saw you sitting there.”

“I’m not a baby!” Bilbo piped back with a slight pout.

Thorin only laughed. “I know. Shall we rejoin the others?”

The young hobbits face suddenly lit up in excitement, and it took every ounce of will-power not to bounce up and down on his heels.

 “Yes!”

“Then let’s get going.”

And so the two walked side by side beside the river, snow flying about around their feet. The young hobbit looked up at the dwarf, barely tall enough to make it up past his elbow. Bilbo opened his mouth to say something to the older dwarf, until he heard laughter in the air. His gaze traveled forward, and he saw the flash of gold and dark hair. Suddenly, there was another, rounding a corner and marching straight towards them.

“Bilbo! There you are!”

It was Frerin. The blonde haired dwarf immediately ran forward, then crouched as the young hobbit released a laugh and ran into the dwarf’s strong arms. Frerin lifted the young hobbit up, holding him tightly against his chest; and Bilbo could feel the deep vibrations as the dwarf laughed.

“I was beginning to miss you, _khuzsh_ ,” Frerin said with a smile and wink, ruffling Bilbo’s bronzed curls. Bilbo only giggled and blushed at the attention before suddenly being set back down gently onto the snow. Frerin was Thorin’s younger brother, the second eldest child of the royal family in Erebor. But unlike his brother and sister, Frerin had beautiful golden hair that was as pure and bright as the sun; with warm chocolate colored eyes that made Bilbo’s insides turn warm.

Like Thorin, Frerin was dressed in fine leathers and furs. But instead of blue, Frerin was wearing a deep crimson red with golden clasps strung up in his many braids.

“Me too. Did you and Thorin have something to do?” Bilbo asked innocently.

“Indeed. It was just boring old palace stuff, nothing you’d like hearing,” Frerin muttered with a shrug, a small smirk playing along his lips.

Nodding, Bilbo stood on the tips of his toes to look over Frerin’s head and catch a glimpse of the princess.

“Where is Dis?” Bilbo heard Thorin’s deep voice ask.

“I dunno. Probably off somewhere snogging with Dwalin.”

“I am certainly _not,_ ” huffed a voice.

A young female dwarf, probably a few years younger than Thorin and Frerin walked around the corner. She was absolutely the mostly lovely thing Bilbo had ever had the pleasure to see, and she was just as gorgeous as she was the last time Bilbo saw her.

To Bilbo, she had the face of an angel. Though she was a bit stockier than hobbit women, that did nothing to deteriorate her stunning beauty. Her dark brown hair was pulled back away from her face, diamond pins in the shape of snow-flakes adoring her hair. Dis’ honey-brown eyes were filled with mischief as she walked towards Frerin and the hobbit; dark purple robes flowing almost gracefully behind her. Another dwarf, a bit older with many tattoos and a Mohawk, lingered close behind her.

Once she was close enough, Dis hissed angrily and swatted Frerin on the back of the head. The blonde haired Durin mewed in mock pain, looking up at his sister in a pout.

“What was that for?” Frerin whined, while Bilbo only giggled at the face the prince made.

“For making it appear that Dwalin and I were doing something we’re certainly not supposed to be doing,” Dis chimed.

Dwalin merely grunted behind Dis, and if the young hobbit wasn’t seeing things, he could swear the older dwarf’s cheeks were red.

“Dis!” Bilbo yelled, running forward and wrapping his small arms around her waist. The lady dwarf laughed, a sound like bells to Bilbo, and leaned over just a bit to hug the small hobbit back.

“Why, hello, Bilbo,” she cooed, “I have been missing my dashing hobbit. Been slaying any dragons for me?”

“Bunches!” Bilbo chirped back, looking up at Dis with nothing but pure adoration.

“Oh, then you’ll have to tell me all about it.”

Bilbo pulled away and looked shyly up at Dwalin, whose arms were crossed over his chest. He wasn’t dressed as fine as the Durins, and looked more gruff and grumpy than the rest.

“H-Hello, Mister Dwalin,” the hobbit said quietly, the side of his face pressed into the robes of Dis’ coat.

“ _Vemu,_ ” Dwalin grunted.

“C’mon, Dwal, say it like you mean it!” Frerin teased.

That also earned Frerin another whack upside the head.

Giggling, Bilbo pulled himself away from Dis and looked back over at Thorin hopefully, who was now staring off into the dark waters of the river.

“Mister Thorin?”

Thorin’s silver eyes settled themselves back onto Bilbo, and a small shiver ran down Bilbo’s spine. Biting his lip and playing with his thumbs, he asked, “Can you do the magic?”

The other dwarves seemed to freeze at the request, glancing at each other and then back at Thorin for his response. Thorin tilted his head a bit at the small hobbits question; his face expressionless, but there seemed to be the smallest hint of a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.

Chuckling to himself, Thorin walked forward and knelt before Bilbo while removing his black leather gloves. His hands were as pale as the snow, and Bilbo released a small gasp of awe as a small stream of snow-flakes formed in his palm before flying gently into the air; as if being carried by the wind itself.

Thorin lifted his other hand and repeated the same action, and could only smile as Bilbo’s mouth hung open in amazement while watching the snow form from his hands. With just a thought he was able to move them dance around the hobbits figure, and the hobbit squealed with delight as he jumped up and down. Frerin and Dis merely laughed at Bilbo’s reaction, but Thorin watched while happiness and warmth blossomed inside his chest.

“Come on, Khâzash! He hasn’t seen us in a while, and all you’re going to do for him is make snow-flakes? Make something better than that!”

Bilbo looked over at Thorin pleadingly as the snowflakes around him fell to the ground. Giving in, Thorin got back to his feet, then splayed his hands out in front of him before raisin them slowly; the other dwarves watching in pure awe as a snowman in the shape of a dragon was created.

The blonde Durin looked over at Thorin with a raised eyebrow and mouthed, “Really? A dragon?” While little Bilbo continued to fawn over the snowman. Thorin simply chuckled at Bilbo’s reaction to the snowman, insisting that is be named Myrtle before Dis walked over to him.

“Can you hurry up and do what we came here for? I’ve been waiting all afternoon!” She asked, sounding impatient as she folded her arms across her chest. Frerin had now joined Bilbo next to the snow-dragon and proceeded to draw a silly face on the head while Dwalin merely shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“I suppose,” Thorin sighed.

Walking up behind Bilbo, Thorin placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, but retracted it when he was a bit of frost forming on the little hobbits jacket.

“Bilbo? Would you like to skate?”

Bilbo’s little heart may have just burst at the question. He nodded eagerly, but then he remembered…

“I don’t have any skates,” He said sadly while looking down at his feet.

“That can be easily fixed, _khuzsh,”_ Thorin replied, looking over to Dwalin.

Setting down a large pack, the large dwarf pulled out a pair of ice-skates that would have been rather large for a young dwarf, but perfect for a small hobbit. Dis motioned Bilbo over with her charming smile, and Bilbo didn’t hesitate to run over to her to try on his new skates; Frerin sighing at the loss of his small companion.

“Well, you seem to have forgotten one thing, khâzash,” Frerin huffed as he got to his feet while dusting off the snow on his knees.

“And what is that?”

“We need ice to skate.”

With a smirk, Thorin merely walked to the water’s edge. At first, he felt nervous and had the suspicion on what he was about to do wouldn’t really work at all. But he wanted to try, just to see how far his limits with his powers truly were. As soon as his heavy boot touched the water, it froze beneath him and turned to solid ice. But it was rigid and uneven. Frowning, he suddenly rushed forward; feeling his powers surging through his veins as he lifted his hands. The river froze up and down stream several feet, now smooth and glossy like polished glass.

With another flick of his wrist, ice formed on the bottom of his boots to make a blade. Remembering to keep his balance by focusing his movements and certain of balance at the hips, he glided over the ice before reaching solid ground with a gawking Frerin.

“Ice has been supplied,” Thorin stated simply.

Frerin snorted, but immediately put back on a smile as a young Bilbo staggered towards him.

“Easy there, little one! Dis, I thought you were supposed to be helping him!” Frerin accused.

“I was! He scrambled away from me so quickly I was hardly able to keep up,” she replied with a laugh.

“Mister Frerin, help me!” Bilbo whined. Frerin merely smiled down at the small hobbit, ruffling his curls before going to slip on ice-skates of his own.

“Just give me a moment or two, _khuzsh_ ,” Frerin called while lacing his skates.

Dis and Dwalin were already on the ice; Dis gliding effortlessly over the smooth surface as if she were flying, while Dwalin himself stumbled clumsily after her. Smiling, Dis went up to him and took his large hands into hers, pulling him along with her over the ice. Dwalin’s whole face turned as red as a tomato, and Thorin tried his best not to laugh at his closest friend’s attempts at skating. Slipping on his gloves, Thorin strutted over to the small hobbit and held out his hand.

The little hobbit merely blinked large hazel eyes up at the dwarf, feeling a small blush forming on his cheeks.

“Would you like to give it a try, Master Baggins?”

Nodding, Bilbo shyly took the dwarfs hand as he was led onto the ice. He tripped a few times, but Thorin would catch him so he wouldn’t fall against the ice. Thorin’s gloved hands held firmly onto Bilbo’s tiny shoulders, smiling as Bilbo would release a stream of giggles and laughs. When it seemed it got the hang of it, Thorin let Bilbo go. At first he froze in fear at suddenly being released, but then gained his courage as he saw Thorin skating around him seamlessly.

He wanted to skate like that too! But as soon as Bilbo started forward, he was suddenly scooped up off the ground and the world was turned upside down. Shrieking and trying to see who his captor was, he caught sight of golden locks.

“Oi! Calm down, Bilbo,” Frerin grunted in pain as Bilbo kicked his in the stomach.

Tossing the little hobbit onto his shoulders, Frerin began making circles around their small skating ring, occasionally passing by Dis and Dwalin, who would smile and shout praises in Khuzdul. Thorin didn’t really join in the fun with the others. He merely lingered near the edge of the ice, occasionally joining in to skate beside his brother and the young hobbit on his shoulders.

Thorin felt nothing but pure happiness at seeing his kin enjoying something that _he_ created. When he first discovered that he was able to create the ice, he was rather nervous about the whole thing. He had kept the secret hidden, only his family and Gandalf the Grey knowing about the ice that flowed through his veins. The raven-haired dwarf had almost had a heart-attack a few months before when a young hobbit with bronzed curls caught him testing out his powers. At first Thorin thought about running right then and there, but something stopped him as a small smile of wonder and amazement spread across his face. And that was it. Thorin had immediately been charmed by the small creature. He was so innocent and pure, that he couldn’t help but make a small storm of snow flurries. From then on, Thorin would occasionally visit a secluded part of the Shire where he would make it snow for the small hobbit.

Of course his brother and sister became curious on where Thorin kept running off to. Thorin had been freezing the trees and covering the ground with mounds of snow when Frerin and Dis had snuck up on Bilbo and Thorin. At first Thorin had been enraged that his kin had dared to follow him on such a private matter, but then he saw how charmed his brother and sister suddenly grew to love small hobbit, and could not deny them on coming with him on trips to meet Bilbo when they were able.

This is what he enjoyed. Seeing Bilbo smile, seeing his family together and enjoying themselves. Everything was perfect… Until Thorin saw it.

Frerin made a small jump into the air, Bilbo squealing as he clung to Frerin’s shoulders. But as soon as Frerin landed, he fell hard onto the ice… with Bilbo sliding to the very edge of the ice; where it was thinner. Immediately Thorin rushed forward and helped his brother to his feet, but he kept his eyes fixed on the small figure near the edge of the ice. Already he could see a few cracks around the area where Bilbo landed, and Thorin made a silent ‘thank you’ to Mahal that the small hobbit wasn’t moving.

Dis skidded to a stop beside Thorin and Frerin, her honey-brown eyes wide in fear.

“Mahal,” She whispered in terror, grabbing Thorin by the elbow as if to steady herself. Then she turned her wrath down onto Frerin.

“ _Menu shirumund!_ Why did you do something so stupid?!” the female dwarf hissed, rage filling her voice.

Frerin’s face was now as pale as a sheet. He looked up at his sister with wide brown eyes, before looking back over to the still form of the hobbit on the ice.

“I… I didn’t mean…”

“Of _course_ you didn’t mean anything by it!” Dis snapped before looking over at Dwalin. “Do you have any rope?”

“I’m afraid I do not, m’lady,” Dwalin muttered, shifting from one foot to another.        

Cursing under his breath, Thorin moved forward as closed as he dared until he heard the ice grumble underneath his weight. Crouching down and setting his hands onto the ice, he willed the ice-cracks to freeze closed, being careful not to cover the little hobbit in frost. After a few tense moments of checking the ice, Thorin dared to call out to Bilbo.

“Bilbo?” He called.

He didn’t move, merely laying completely lifeless against the ice. Thorin’s heart began to pound painfully against his chest.

“Bilbo, please, wake up,” Thorin yelled a bit more forcefully. A sigh of relief escaped his lips when Bilbo suddenly winced and released a slight whimper. The dwarf’s heart almost shattered when the hobbit released a small sob as if he were about to start crying—but at least he was awake.

“Bilbo? Are you okay?” Thorin asked earnestly.

Bilbo lifted his head and looked up at Thorin with tears in his eyes, his small button-shaped nose bright red and small skid-marks on his cheeks from scraping against the ice.

“My foot hurts,” he sniffled.

Thorin and the others merely released shakey laughs at the comment, but the air was still tense with the gravity of the situation.

“Alright, Bilbo,” Thorin instructed sternly, “I need you to listen carefully… Okay? Good. Now, I need you to get up for me—very slowly, now—and crawl towards us.”

Blinking a few times with another sniffle or two, Bilbo crawled into his hands and knees and began crawling forward—but immediately stopped when the ice groaned under him and more cracks formed underneath. The Durins froze, and Thorin swore he could hear his own heartbeat pounding insanely in his ears.

“Bilbo… Don’t move…” Frerin said softly, daring to inch forward a bit until Thorin’s hand stopped him.

Carefully, Thorin got to his feet and began moving forward; the ice freezing under his feet as he inched closer to the hobbit.

“Can you get to your feet?” Thorin asked breathlessly, staring down at the cracks beneath Bilbo’s feet.

“I… I think so…”

Slowly the small hobbit got to his feet, the ice continuing to groan under the weight but not collapsing. This would be okay. Thorin would be able to grab Bilbo and things would turn out all right. Thorin reached his hand out towards Bilbo, and Bilbo did the same in turn. They were so close, yet so very far.

And then it happened. Bilbo moved forward just a bit to try and grasp Thorin’s gloved hand, but as soon as he did, the ice groaned one last time—and suddenly Bilbo wasn’t standing there anymore. There was only a large whole in the ice with pitch-black water gazing up at Thorin. Dis screamed from behind him, and suddenly Thorin found himself tearing off his gloves and cloak.

Freezing cold seemed to swallow Bilbo up in a second. One moment he was reaching for Thorin, and in the next he was pulled down into a dark abyss where the cold seemed to seep down into his very bones. He tried to scream, but every time he opened his mouth cold water would rush down into this throat. His small arms trashed about, his legs kicking around at nothing, his clothes growing almost as heavy as weights; pulling him further down into the blackness that seemed to surround him.

But then arms as strong as steel wrapped around him, suddenly wrapped around him and he was pulled up. When his head came out of the water he gasped for air as if it were his very last breath.

“Easy, Bilbo,” Thorin’s deep voice grunted.

Within moments, Bilbo found himself gently being lifted out of the water by Dwalin, who carried them further onto the thicker parts of the ice. The little hobbit shivered at the coolness of the air, already beginning to tremble before he was pulled into the warmth of Dis’ arms.

“Oh, _khuzsh_ , I am so sorry,” she cooed in a sweet voice while wrapping her cloak around Bilbo’s tiny form.

Frerin and Dwalin proceeded to pull Thorin out from the water, while Dis continued to run her hands up and down Bilbo’s arms in a feeble attempt to try and warm him. Thorin merely pulled on his cloak and rushed over to Dis and Bilbo, his silver-blue eyes filled with worry.

“Bilbo! Are you alright?” Thorin asked, his eyes wandering over the small face. His skin was turning an ashy grey color opposed to his normally pink colored face, while his lips seemed to be turning slightly blue.

“M-Momma,” the small hobbit whimpered, his eyes fluttering closed. Thorin’s lips closed into a tight line, and without a thought he scooped Bilbo up into his arms and made his way off the ice; Frerin right on his tail.

“Thorin! Where are you going?” Frerin yelled, his voice filled with worry and concerned. His eyes drifted from both Thorin’s face to Bilbo’s.

“Taking Bilbo back home,” Thorin said without looking back at his brother. He was far too angry at Frerin right now. If he hadn’t been goofing around with a child on his back, then Bilbo wouldn’t have fallen through the ice in the first place. “Dis! You and Dwalin head back to the palace!”

“What? No way!” She yelled, running onto the ground.

“Dwalin: take her.”

Dis merely screamed her outrage back at her brothers as Dwalin gently grabbed the princess by the shoulders. Thorin knew that Dis would clog him in the head later, but he had no choice at the moment.

The small hobbit looked up at Thorin almost weakly, his eyes growing heavy and the cold washing over him far too quickly. He suddenly wished he was back at home in his bed, with his mother kissing him on the forehead goodnight while his father stood in the doorway. Bilbo wanted to open his mouth, to tell Thorin thank you for pulling him out of the water, but… his eyelids grew very heavy. Sleep called to him, singing in his ears like a lullaby. And before he realized that Thorin was now sprinting with an anxious Frerin behind, he was fast asleep against Thorin’s chest.

Sprinting as fast as he could through the thick snow, he didn’t stop until he reached the main path. The cold, thin air was hard on his lungs as he ran. But he wouldn’t stop. Not until Bilbo was home and safe. Frerin huffed and puffed beside him as they sprinted along the path, occasionally offering to carry the Halfling but Thorin would refuse the offer with nothing more than a stern glare.

After almost an hour trying to find the right hobbit hole, the finally made it to right house. Frerin rapped on the door with his knuckles until a rather tall hobbit opened the door. Thorin could immediately see where young Bilbo got his looks from. The same round face and nose. Yes, Thorin was definitely sure that this was Bilbo’s father. But unlike him, Bilbo had hazel eyes while his father seemed to have misty grey ones.

“Hello, may I—Bilbo!” The older hobbit yelled, immediately taking the small hobbit out of Thorin’s arms.

“He fell through the ice,” Thorin huffed breathlessly, marching inside when the older hobbit went further inside his home.

“I see that, but what _happened_ to him?!” The male hobbit all but yelled, anger filled in his stormy grey eyes. Thorin looked down at Bilbo, and his heart suddenly sank down into his boots. Oh no. No, no, no. The poor hobbit seemed to have a thin layer of frost over him; his skin white and lips blue. Thorin would have thought Bilbo was dead if not for the slight rise and fall of his chest. Looking down at his hands Thorin realized: he wasn’t wearing any gloves. The dwarf closed his eyes tightly and slightly cursed himself. If anything happens to Bilbo, he’ll never forgive himself….

“Belladonna! Bella, quickly! Start a fire in Bilbo’s room!”

“Why?” a voice called further into the hobbit hole. “Is he—oh my!”

Suddenly the dark-haired hobbit was in the entrance, taking Bilbo from the older hobbits arms.

“Bungo, get him undressed! I’ll get some wood for the fire.”           

Thorin wanted to help, but he was suddenly frozen by it all. He was about to leave when a firm hand rested on his shoulder. His brother gave his shoulder a firm squeeze, offering a pained smile with sadness lurking in his eyes.

“He will be fine, brother,” Frerin whispered softly.

“ _You two_ ,” The older hobbit, Bungo, snapped. Both of them turned their heads to look at the hobbit who was glaring holes into their heads. “Stay here. I want to know _exactly_ what happened when I return.”

And so the two hobbits carried Bilbo down the hall, disappearing around a corner to head into a bedroom. At first Frerin and Thorin just stood there dumbfounded. Had all this really happened? For a while they both stood there awkwardly, until they found a few wooden chairs in what looked like a living room. Thorin took off his boots and set them in the entrance, not wanting to track snow and water across the carpets more than he already was. Despite being utterly soaked from head to toe, he wasn’t cold. That was one thing he had been grateful for with these powers. The cold never bothered him as it did his siblings.

They sat there for what seemed like forever, until Bungo and Belladonna came into the living room. Bungo was practically shaking with fury, his face contorted with rage. But his wife merely had a guarded expression upon her features with her arms crossed lightly over her chest.

“So,” Belladonna Baggins said smoothly, “you two are the ones my son has been running about to meet in rain or shine.”

“Our sister, too,” Frerin blurted out.

Thorin shot his younger brother a look before getting to his feet and bowing a bit, feeling a bit silly that he was still very wet and look ridiculous without shoes or socks.

“Thorin Oakenshield, Line of Durin: at your service, ma’am,” Thorin uttered, not daring to look them in the eyes due to the shame that was slowly consuming him. Frerin quickly followed suit, bowing to the two hobbits.

“Frerin, Line of Durin: at your service,” Frerin mimicked Thorin in tone.

“At your _service,_ your highnesses’,” Bungo Baggins snapped back icily.

The dwarf rose to his full height, Frerin following suit.

“I shall get straight to the point, Mr. and Mrs. Baggins,” Thorin began, keeping his face emotionless. “I met your son about a month or so ago. My siblings and I grew rather fond of the little one’s company, so we would often invite him to meet us. Today we thought we’d take the little one out onto the ice… but while doing so, my brother accidently fell and Bilbo was pushed onto thin ice. I tried to reach him, but he fell through. I jumped in to save him, and then quickly brought him back here.”

Bungo was still shaking with rage, but Belladonna’s expression had softened somewhat.

“Thank you for saving him,” Belladonna whispered back softly.

“Bella! Because of these two, our son almost _died!”_

The female hobbit looked up at her husband with king eyes, lacing a hand into his. Thorin was instantly reminded of his own mother with his father, and his chest constricted a bit at the sight.

“Yes,” she replied gently, “but they are also the ones who _saved_ him, darling.”

Her husband seemed to calm a bit at this. Sighing heavily, he brought up his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. The hobbit was obviously only concerned for the well-being of his only son. Frerin gave a concerned glance at his brother, but said nothing. No doubt that Frerin felt guiltier than him.

Thorin was about to open his mouth to say something, anything, to the hobbits to let them know how sorry he was—but he was suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Now who on Middle-Earth is at our door _now,_ ” Bungo muttered bitterly, “more dwarves?”

Belladonna merely shot her husband a look before leaving the living room and heading out to the entrance, where everyone heard her gasp.

“Gandalf!” Belladonna cried.

“Hello, hello, my dear,” Gandalf cried cheerfully.

Frerin and Thorin immediately looked at each other, eyes wide. Gandalf? Not _the_ Gandalf! Surely this must be another Gandalf! But no. As fate would have it, none other than Gandalf the Grey was standing in the opening with Belladonna with an infuriatingly chipper smile. Of course he always showed up at the worst possible times.

“Thorin, Frerin; my dear boys, how nice to see you!”

Trying his best not to frown, Thorin nodded in greeting towards the grey wizard. “Gandalf,” he replied.

“Bella, my dear, why on Earth are you so upset?”

“Oh, Gandalf, you’ve arrived at the most opportune time! Bilbo, he… He fell into the river. And he’s pale and beginning to run a fever. Do you think you could look at him?”

“Why, of course. Anything for you my dear. Could you perhaps spare me a moment alone with the two princes? I’m sure Thorin is in need of some warm, dry clothes, and I would like some tea if you have any. I’ll be in to look after your boy in a moment, my dear. Thank you.”

Bungo was about to protest to the whole thing, but Belladonna gently grabbed her husband by the elbow and dragged him out of the room. Thorin and Frerin both looked up at Gandalf with stunned, if not dumbfounded, expressions.

“Well, it’s so nice to see you, Thorin. But I must say in our previous meetings you’ve been a bit drier.”

“What are you _doing here?_ ” Frerin hissed, his brown eyes narrowed into slits.

Gandalf paid absolutely no attention whatsoever to the blonde Durin’s tone. “I was simply in the neighborhood and decided to drop by to see one of my dearest and oldest friends. Surely you have nothing against that? Excellent timing too, seeing as young Bilbo—“

“Enough chattering, wizard,” Thorin spat angrily, glaring up at the man with silver-blue eyes. “I don’t know why you’re here or if you merely decided to follow us, but Bilbo is sick and you must help him.”

“My, my,” Gandalf chided, “you’ve been much bossier since I last saw you. But before I help him… I would like to talk to you about your powers and Bilbo.”

Immediately the two Durins froze at the mention of Thorin’s powers.

“Why?” Thorin asked warily.

“You see, Thorin, I understand you are quite fond of the hobbit. As am I. Bright young lad, with adventure in his heart. He’s quiet fond of you both. I was not going to intervene, since nothing seemed like it could go wrong… but now I must.”

“What do you mean?”

Gandalf’s grey eyes saddened a bit. “What I mean is, you can no longer let him know you have powers. And I would advise that you stop seeing Bilbo all together.”

“What?” Frerin snapped.

“You may still see him, Frerin, but for Thorin that is entirely another story indeed.”

“That will be rather hard, Gandalf, seeing as he already knows,” Thorin reasoned, his hands curling into fists.

“The mind is a fickle thing, Thorin Oakenshield. It can be persuaded to believe whatever it wants. I will deal with Bilbo… Thorin, please know that what I am doing it is for both you and Bilbo, and perhaps the entire kingdom.”

The eldest dwarf wanted nothing more than to lash out at the old wizard. Scream at him and tell him to leave. But he knew that Gandalf was one of Bilbo’s only chances of survival that this point, and if he continued on this path, he may possibly hurt Bilbo again. And that is something he wasn’t willing to risk.

“Will he remember me?” Thorin said just above a whisper.

“Thorin!” Frerin gasped, looking at his brother with wide eyes; not fully believing he was giving in.

“Of course he will. I will simply replace all his memories with different ones.”

Looking up at Gandalf with a defeated gaze, Thorin asked, “May I see him one last time before…?”

“Yes, my dear boy. I’m not completely cold hearted as you believe me to me,” Gandalf said, turning on his heel and ducking his head under the archway to make his way to Bilbo’s room. A few minutes later, Belladonna came back with a fresh shirt and pants for Thorin to change into. Frerin didn’t even look Thorin in the eye, and Thorin didn’t blame him. All Thorin was worried about at the moment was saying the proper goodbye to Bilbo.

 

 

When Bilbo woke, his throat was sore and his face felt hot. But he found that he was pleasantly tucked into his bed with the fire crackling and popping inside the hearth. Whimpering at the soreness in the back of his throat as he tried to swallow, he forced his eyes to flutter open to see a looming over his bedside.

“Th-Thorin?” Bilbo rasped, his eyes fluttering.

“ _Shhh, sankurdu,”_ Thorin whispered, gently running a gloved hand through his bronzed curls. “Are you feeling any better?”

“My throat hurts,” the small hobbit whimpered.

The dwarf gave a pained smile. “I know, little one. But you’ll be alright now.”

“Th-thank y-you,” Bilbo spluttered while looking up at the dwarf with watery hazel eyes.

“What for, _sankurdu_?”

“For s-saving me.”

Thorin seemed to tense at that, and the smile melted away from his face. Retracting his hand, he gazed down at his lap. “I must go, Bilbo.”

“W-why?” Bilbo whimpered, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He had already gone through so much today. He wanted nothing more than for Thorin to stay with him. The hobbit felt comfortable in the dwarf’s presence, a sense of ease always falling over him like a cool breeze on a hot summer day.

The raven-haired dwarf merely gave a small smile down at the young hobbit, leaning forward to place a kiss on his forehead.

“Oh, _sankurdu_ … Never mind what I said. Sleep now, and gain your strength,” Thorin whispered.

“But…”

“Shh…”

And against his will, Bilbo’s eyes fluttered closed as a deep humming filled the air. It made Bilbo’s heart swell and he might as well have started flying when Thorin started singing for him in the gentlest voice he had ever heard.

“Far over… The Misty Mountains rise…”

With those words, Bilbo fell into a deep, blissful sleep: not realizing that his friendship with the dwarf would end forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, alright-- BEFORE you flip out, let me explain: I made Bilbo a lot younger in this chapter. He will be older in future chapters. I'm not into pedophila. Besides that, I hope you enjoyed what I had so far. Stay tuned.
> 
> Khuzdul:
> 
> Sankurdu - True heart  
> Khuzsh - Friend  
> Khazash - Brother  
> Vemu - Greetings  
> Menu shirumund - You are beardless


End file.
